F.M. 240
by Jason Ashbaugh

Lost control of your truck coming down the L
took out a lawnmower and a good section of fence.
When we got up on you
you had this look on your face
scared, shameful,
but you reined it in,
pushed it down.
Then it was,
Hell, I meant to do that.
This is where I wanted to be.
You dug around in your shirt pocket saying,
"Sometimes you just got to stop and have a smoke."

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